Wilson Said
by EuphoniumGurl0
Summary: Tuesdays, when Wilson is busy with his girl, Cameron is forced to take care of House.


A/N: Whattup? Alright, this is my second attempt at a House story, and it's the first that I've actually posted. Some of you know me for my elaborate works in the Harry Potter universe. Well, this is a one-shot general/romance story about Cameron/House. Yeah, I love that pairing. So, enjoy!

"You know this isn't good for you," she said, stepping up behind him, crossing her arms, her long trench coat not keeping out the cold. Inside her coat and under her scarf, her skin was covered in goosebumps.

"If someone so intelligent makes such an astute observation, it must be true," he said, not missing a beat. Even after all this time, he wasn't surprised or disturbed by anything. Everything was normal to him. Everything was just something he could use later on in a witty quip.

"Come on, House. Put down the drink. I think it's time to go home." She walked to the right of him, blocking the t.v. at the bar which was currently showing replays of some sort of sporting event that took place earlier that night.

"You might think so, but I don't. Move out of the way," he replied, downing the rest of his drink and tapping on the bar loudly until the bartender came to him. "Give me whatever the hell you want, and give the toots whatever she wants. My treat."

The bartender looked at her questioningly, and she rolled her eyes, heaving a long sigh. "Why have you not cut him off yet? He's clearly past anything intelligible."

"I tried, but he hit me with his cane. The way I figure it, if he can still be a smartass, he can't be _that_ drunk." The bartender shrugged, cleaning House's old glass.

"He can never be drunk enough to do that. He hasn't made one sexual remark since I've arrived, though, so I know he's just a few drinks away from passing out on the bar."

"HAAA! See that, man? I told you she was mean. She's talking smack about me like I'm not even here! I gotta smack that bitch up so she stays in her place." House smiled brightly, putting his left cheek down on the bar. "Have your breasts gotten larger? Are you having Dr. Ken's baby? You can teach him to wrestle crocodiles, _mate_."

"I'm not pregnant, and my breasts are not larger," Cameron sighed loudly for the second time since entering the dingy establishment. You would think that a doctor could afford to get wasted in a nicer place. House, however, seemed to still prefer dodgy bars like this. "Come on, House. I'm taking you home."

With that, she pulled him out of his chair. His head rested just above her breasts, his legs barely holding him up. She was glad that he was able to keep himself standing. She didn't think that she could support him by herself. He was twice her size and probably weighed twice as much as she did, too.

"I like your perfume. It smells like vomit. Maybe you already _have_ had Chase's baby. Tell me, Cameron, is he a _bastard_?" House asked, his hands pushing her coat to the sides so that his lips now were moving against her collarbone.

"I don't have a child, but I'm glad that you've lost none of your charm when it comes to women." She stated in a neutral tone, dragging him to her new car.

"Oh baby, you know I was just kidding. You're the only one for me. I love you, darling."

She rolled her eyes and clicked the unlock button on her remote. She opened the door to the backseat and shoved House in. She threw his flamed cane on the floor of the car before shutting the door gently. She moved towards the driver's door and opened it. Once she got in, she locked the car before putting in the key.

"We going back to your place for a little _alone_ time?" House asked, his speech slurred, the stubble of his cheeks scraping against her backseat.

"_We_ are not going anywhere. I'm taking you to _your_ home, and then I'm going to _my_ home," she said with a heavy sigh, signaling to turn out onto the practically empty street. What time was it anyway? Three in the morning? Four?

"Are you really going to _your_ home like you stated, or are you going to your _boyfriend's_ house for a little midnight loving?" he asked sarcastically, not even trying to prop himself up. His body hurt.

"It's far past midnight, House, and even if it wasn't, it would still be none of your business," she answered, pulling out into the street.

"Oh, but it is. As a fellow employee of Princeton-Plainsboro, I have every right to be concerned if a physician is going to come in tired the next morning because of a late night booty call," he said slowly but surely, drool escaping his mouth now and leaking onto Cameron's seats.

"Well, I can assure you that my personal affairs will not affect my work," she said shortly and stiffly, grimacing as she saw his helpless pose in the rearview mirror.

There was silence for a few moments, and Cameron wondered whether the man in her backseat had passed out finally. That made life simpler for the moment, but it would be a pain to drag him to his apartment. She wondered if she would have to call Chase for help. He would most likely laugh at her over the phone and tell her to leave him on the steps, on the curb even for another car to run him over.

Her boyfriend wasn't the apathetic kind. He was actually quite mean to people in general. Maybe that's why he was the first to get fired. He was too much like House.

Then again, all three of the original fellows were too much like House for any of their likings. Everyone saw that Foreman was willing to take risks like House and would do whatever he thought was right, regardless of the consequences, but Foreman still cared. He did everything , right and wrong, to improve the patients' conditions. He wanted to solve their mysteries in order to improve their lives, not to receive self-gratification by solving a puzzle.

Chase, on the other hand, had a different way of operating, literally and figuratively. He did what he thought was right as long as he could get away with it. He was self-serving (and she wasn't naïve enough to think that he acted any differently with her, even if he did claim to love her), and he was even cold. There were patients that he just didn't care about or even wanted to die. Deep down, he had the same uncaring attitude toward them that House did. And House did. It didn't matter how much people claimed he truly cared. He cared about the puzzle, not the people. There were some people that he would care about both with, but that didn't include any of his patients thus far, as far as she knew.

And her? She didn't know. Nor did she dare think about it. She had become cynical in general. Coming into the fellowship, she had been apathetic and naïve about the world, willing to serve others and be liked, but now… now she didn't differentiate between people. Everyone was treated equally, and that wasn't good. She knew that much.

Whether they started that way or became that way, she wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. It was fact. They were all House, even if they thought themselves better people. However, House had one up on them because he was a better doctor.

She pulled over next to the curb of his apartment complex and looked around. It was late, and this wasn't the safest part of the city. House picked the nicest place he could find in the dirtiest of neighborhoods, and that was on purpose. When she saw that the cost was clear, she drew her coat around her tightly and stepped out of her car, walking around to open the door to the backseat.

Her small, gloved hand gripped the door handle and pulled it open. Her eyes roamed over House's body, noticing as she always did when he was in a vulnerable state, how truly fragile he looked. When she got to his face, she was surprised to notice that his sharp, blue eyes were staring at her.

"Come on, House, let's go," she barked harshly, knowing that despite picking up certain mannerisms from House, she was still very much herself and would end up with unwanted feelings were she to let herself stare.

"Yes, let's get you home to blondie. He's probably got Lesbian waiting for you there for a surprise party! I'll give you a hint: the surprise is _sex_," he said, taking his cane and using it as leverage to heave himself upward.

She didn't say anything, just watched him struggle to get himself in an upright position. After failing several times, she sighed and took his arm, helping him to sit up and swing his legs out of her car.

"Not going to deny your fetish for a Caucasian on Caucasian on Caucasian love fest?" he asked, still trying to push her buttons.

It wasn't working, but she decided to throw him a bone. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to get a good night's sleep and terrorize innocent people in the morning… or whenever he decided he would go to work.

"Why do you care about what I do and with whom I do it with?" she asked, trying to sound angry though she wasn't. She half wasn't even listening to his response.

"Like I said, as a fellow staff member, it is my duty to taunt and prod until I feel like stopping," he said sarcastically, trying to walk up the staircase to where the gate to his building was.

"Look House, Wilson said that you needed help getting home because Amber wouldn't let him come get you so he asked if I could come. I said yes as a favor to _him_ not to _you_ so let's try to make this as quick and painless as possible."

Her cell phone rang, and it vaguely registered in House's brain that it was not the first time it had rang in the past twenty or so minutes.

"You didn't tell Chase you were coming to get me," he stated.

"No, I didn't," she confirmed, opening the gate and walking him to his door.

"Why wouldn't you tell him? You were just doing a favor for Wilson, after all. Wilson _said_ I needed help, right?" he asked, opening the door to his apartment and stepping inside.

"I had no reason to tell him. If I needed his help, I wouldn't have hesitated to call," she said emotionlessly. This was a fact.

"But you didn't. You still like me," House said.

She rolled her eyes and turned around. "Goodbye, House."

"Does seeing me helpless turn you on?" he called from across the hallway now.

Cameron turned back and walked toward him again.

"You disgust me, and watching you drool in the back of my car, not even able to get your ass off of my seat and drag yourself to your pathetic existence does _not_ turn me on," she said, turning back once more.

She was not even a step away when he said, "Yes it does."

In her head, she hated herself, but something about his vulnerability and the sharp look in his eyes still turned her on, and she had a feeling that it always would.

She only paused for a second before attempting to keep walking down the hall. However, a hand caught her shoulder, spun her around, and his lips collided with hers.

Wilson said that House needed help, but then again, he needed help almost every night. Tuesdays, however, it was her responsibility. Every Tuesday was the same story.

A/N: Yeah, the ending was hard to right. I wrote the whole thing tonight. It came to me. Had writers block in my HP stories. Turns out, all I needed was the directions to another universe! Alright so, hit me up and lemme know how I did with this. I'm thinking I may write another!


End file.
